The Toilet Seat

When I began writing this post back in March, it was going to start with, "Most wives are upset because their husbands forget to put the toilet seat down. Not me." Because, well, mine was having a problem putting it up. And so it was such a joy sitting on a wet toilet seat in the middle of the night. But I guess that's better than falling into the thing, right? Anyhow, I learned to first wipe it off before sitting. I'm a quick study.

A lot has changed since March. Sitting on wet seats now seems like such a small problem, one hardly worth mentioning except to get a laugh. What's more concerning is that toileting is taking place in all kinds of places. The shower stall and bathtub and bathroom floor are easy enough to clean up if I notice the stain before it dries, but I just hate waking from a deep sleep to the tell-tale sound that means I'll be shampooing the carpeting in the middle of the night. It's hard to get back to sleep after that.

It isn't that he can't make it to the bathroom; it's that he thinks he's there. It isn't that his aim is off; it's that he thinks he's urinating in the toilet when, in fact, he's urinating beside it. Or across from it. Or in the corner. Or in the closet. Or wherever. And I can stand right next to him, trying to redirect him. But he just looks at me uncomprehendingly. It's so hard to understand how this could possibly be, but there you have it. A bedside commode wouldn't solve the problem. Peeing in the shrubs is one thing. Peeing wherever is something else.

I'm sorry if this post offends your sensibilities, but things are "getting real" around here and have been for some time. I've been hesitant to post about these and other sensitive issues. It's not something people talk about in polite company. But it's something that happens. You expect your loved one to become incontinent at some point with this illness. You just don't expect incontinence to look like this. And worse.

By the way, if he ever makes it to Mexico or on a sailboat again, I don't have to worry about him trying to flush the toilet paper, thus clogging the system and causing a backup. The used paper ends up in the trash can (preferred) or in the magazine rack or behind the toilet or under the bath rug. Anywhere but the toilet. Hooray!